Two Sides of the Same Coin
by Super-Cereal
Summary: Who cares about the Grimm? Who cares about the fall of Beacon Academy or Vale? Who even cares about this worthless war? Hell, who even cares about this stupid world they live on? Apparently everyone did besides Cardin, but the hot head had other things in mind. And apparently, the world agrees with him. (It's time travel, for anyone who got tired of vague summaries).
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Home

This sensation he felt was familiar, for this anger was too much for him to describe as he shakes and glares maniacally at the culprit of this bloodlust. Anger and frustration engulfed his conscious.

It was him; he recognized that appearance anywhere. His teeth clenched, tasting fresh blood.

He knew the Grimm mask he wore, the blaring red hair, and the sword that lays beside his waist, but most importantly, the delighted chuckle he spews from his mangy maw. The mace wielder, filled with repressed rage, recognized the animal anywhere – it haunted his sleep for too long to remember when it all's started. What lay before him was his recon team, their dismembered bodies, and blood decorating the White Fang campsite. Their paling faces said it all, it came from nowhere, and it was too late to react. And he was surrounded as he recognized more than several White Fang uniforms emerging from the shadows. They knew… They knew from the very beginning.

This wasn't supposed to happen according to the plans Ilia relayed to him and his team when she revealed a major White Fang campsite in Vacuo bordering near Vale's territory.

Carson gripped his trusted mace 'til his knuckles turned white. There was no time for mourning his friends; he knew his team wouldn't allow it even at his most vulnerable. 'Man up and quit pussyin' around,' they would jab at him. It was also no time to spew his hatred to the damn lizard girl either. Unfortunately, he wasn't thinking too clearly in general.

"You bastard!" Cardin yelled at the top of his lungs as he lunges towards, his mace hungry for a bludgeoning.

The animal dared to smirk at him as he his lowered stance and emitted an intense glow of red. "Typical behavior of an inferior race," the terrorist leader taunted the charging ginger. And as expected, Cardin winded his strike too far, too predictable for even the Beacon's standards. But it held a crushing kinetic force. And Adam gladly returned it to him tenfold as he drew out his blade.

Cardin roared, delirious from the ambush and swung his mace with two hands directly above the son of a bitch's dome. And his movements, although telegraphed, was fast, for he quickly directed the arched swing to his right side. It wasn't enough, however.

And no matter how much he flailed, no matter how tough his frame or how he proves his unyielding prowess, it wasn't enough as he could see the incoming flash of crimson cutting through his armor and into his soft flesh. Adam phased through him like a mirage as he followed through his attack. As the slash went through his midsection, the clean-cut forced his blood to rush out in quick session. Aura would have secured any injuries from turning grim, but he knew better than to think Adam would be unable to reach past his armor and into his being. That would settle soon enough he thought. All he needed was a definite hit to the bastard's skull. That's all he needed, how unfortunate that speed was never his forte.

And he knew he couldn't come close to the combat level as this little devil spawn. But it would serve him eternal bliss if his last moments were Adam to fall before him and lie under his boot. It was too farfetched of a dream though.

As the brave yet careless warrior collapsed to his knees, the pain started to numb him. That wasn't a good sign – his vision blurred and it was harder to breathe. Cardin was dying, much to his annoyance.

He had much to say to the red-haired freak, but Cardin's strength was fading slowly, and Adam, even after taking him and his crew down, simply wiped his beloved katana with his coat and proceeded to walk towards him.

"Such a stupid ploy," Adam scoffed as he reached for his scroll. "Did you honestly think you could just walk in here and expect an open target? Heh, very foolish of you, but they were within my expectations."

"F-fuck you!" Cardin coughed, pressuring his wound with his palm. "You're dead!"

"Hmph, is that all you're capable of saying?" Adam sighed as his stands before the downed man. He then kicked Cardin in the stomach, causing him to gasp and hiss as his wound spilled more blood.

"I've heard of you a while back, Cardin Winchester. The man who leads a mercenary unit that targets the White Fang hideouts, destroy our Dust supplies and transportation, and worse yet," Adam gave another good kick at him, "the filthy lowlife who executed over countless of good Faunus, men and women alike, within my organization."

He grabbed his neck and pulled his head up to get his attention. The blue eyes, although losing its color, still has a sliver of life left. "I've always wanted to meet you and tell you this before I rid you from Remnant." Cardin, barely breathing at this point, collected the blood in his mouth and spat his bile at his face. Unfortunately, he didn't even have the strength let it fly far enough. However, it did stain his uniform. Well, at least that was a decent response on his part. He was tempted to reach out with his hand and smear it over his smug face.

Unfazed by this, Adam drew merely his blade once again, ready to finish him off.

"Even though you are a beneath me, even if you did everything in your power to get rid of us. I have to admit," he chuckled as placed the sharp edge of the ginger's neck, "that hate of yours is similar to mine. Perhaps it's even greater than mine. But unlike me, you don't know how to utilize that hatred, nor do you understand where that emotion even stems from," he shrugged. The dying warrior raised his limp hands to strangle him, but could barely apply any pressure as he wrapped them around his neck, "and you may never will. Perhaps it's better that way," he sighed, the sword dug into his jugular.

'Fucking sub-human bastard!' the mace wielder roared in his thoughts. The memories of his childhood were catching up to him as Cardin was filled with an unrelenting will, his fingers tightened around the terrorist's neck. His throat drying from blood, he could only whisper his last sentence but with a grim tone.

"You'll die and rot like the fucking filthy animal you really are, and when you get bent, I'll drag you into my hell and make you pay!" Adam didn't respond to his insult. Instead, he angled his hilt, pressing the blade away from him.

"Goodbye Cardin," he said before he slowly decapitates the glaring ginger-haired man, "and good riddance."

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In the southern region of Mistral lies a small town named Howling Shores, where the city lays on top of a plateau near the large airship stations that sit around the settlement. It was a peaceful community, but it harbored strong winds and a raging sea. That, and the sounds of turbines clocking in every morning. Luckily, the infrastructure was robust with steel and concrete. There were soaring walls forged in augmented steel that also blocked off most attacks from Grimm besides the Nevermores and Lancers. And since it's one of the very viable airship ports for trading with merchants at the Menagerie, compared to the bustling cities up near the Wind Path, it was a trading and shipping area brimming with Faunus and alike.

It was also the middle of the summer, but that just signaled the adults to work harder and the children to take a break from the academics. And inside near the northern borders of was a two-story home, but it was designed and forged in enhanced steel to take a colossal amount of hits. And within it was the Winchester family who guards against any threats when alerted from the local council. It was a time like any other for the tall, mighty, and proud huntsman, Sean Winchester.

At least that's what he was hoping for.

Today was an odd one for Sean and his wife, Merry Winchester. First, instead of his alarm clock giving him the pleasant midi music he expected in the morning, or the love bites from Merry when he was reluctant to get up, a sudden screaming son of his invaded his eardrums. It was a Sunday goddammit, so unless there's a pack of Grimm at his doorsteps, there should be no tolerable excuse as to why he was so damn noisy.

Second, when he walked into his son's room with just his boxers and saw what was going on, Cardin was a stuttering mess and started running around his room as if he no longer recognizes his own home. Was it a nightmare? No, if it were, he'd know for sure the brat would crawl his way into the bed and ruin his night with his lover.

Third, his very son dared to gawked at him like a stranger, then at himself, then back at him, only to raise his hand as if measuring how he stands up to his dad. And finally, when he finally spoke in the morning, it took the cake of an odd Sunday.

"This can't be real. No, it must be that bitch playing tricks on me," Cardin whispered to himself but audible to the father, "But holy fucking shit…"

Sean donkey punched him hard enough to imprint his knuckles on the back of his head for saying such heinous words and at such a casual tone. "Watch your language brat!" Cardin reeled back in pain and growled, lowering an octave on purpose.

"Ow! What the fucking hell!? Is your retarded habit kicking in again?" Cardin bitched hard as a single tear was shed from the bump on his head.

He prayed and questioned how he learned such language. And habit? What habit? Was he the one who screamed bloody murder? He thought not.

 _Damn little shit will have Merry chew my fucking ass out if I don't fix that potty mouth._

"Oi son, what's gotten into you?" He commanded Cardin's attention as the boy started rubbing the back of his head – as if that hurts. Thankfully, he unlocked his semblance at a tender age of 6, albeit with some serious resistance from his beloved. And now after a year, the boy seemed to get the hang of it already.

"I don't think I've ever taught you the adult vocabulary, and I know for sure neither did your mom." Sean was suddenly worried.

Cardin's eyes widened for a quick second, which was something he noticed when he mentioned her. With locked jaws, Cardin asked through his clenched teeth.

"Where's mom?" His blue eyes showed he was determined. Hardened. But that wasn't something a young seedling should show. No, it was more similar to his own when he lost his own significant other. Sure, his son loved his mother dearly, perhaps near the point of blue balling Sean, but it that was a face that would eventually give him a permanent scowl.

Something was off about the child, but it was early - as in 6 am in the morning early. At best, he's operating at 30 percent mental capacity, with black coffee it'd be 50 at most. Hopefully, Merry can deal with this shit and leave him out of it.

And speaking of she-devil, Merry Winchester came into the scene, her shoulder length and curly brunette hair bobbed every time she moved and her pale skin shined even in the dimmed bedroom. Well, it more like she dragged her slippers in here, and was wearing nothing more than his black lingerie to show most of her glorious bust.

"What's with the ruckus," she slurred, blinking to adjust to the room's lighting.

He was expecting an'ew mom; you're blinding me! Put some clothes on' or something along those lines. Instead, Cardin hitched his breath was still as if even the world was frozen. And his bewildered blue eyes expressed mixed emotions in milliseconds, but one particular feeling was evident: immense gloom.

When her maternal instincts kicked in her like a pack mule, she immediately took note of his face and rushed towards the boy with a worried voice. She knelt down to match the height of eye contact and kissed his forehead and hummed to a lullaby to calm his down. However, her actions lead the child's shedding tears as she caressed his cheeks and motioned her palm in small circles.

"Cardin, little pumpkin, please tell me what's wrong," she begged for her son to answer.

Merry was a former huntress and was regarded as a strong-minded leader back in her prime. Also known to wield a fearsome weapon she called Bash N' Smash, Merry was no push-over. May the people's insults and threats go over her head, for everyone knows she's not the kind to settle things down until she comes out on top. But she was an all-natural hero and role model to the huntsmen community, yet she's also to be feared and proceeded with caution. He never recalled how he stole her body and soul, but he had to thank and curse his drunk persona for the daily gift that was Merry. She also had a massive heart but harbor vulnerable attachments with family, and that was primarily so when she felt her own tears to shed for her boy's suffering.

"Please, I need to know! Was it something you eat? A nightmare? Did someone hurt you? It is, isn't it!? I swear to Oum if it's that Thrush brat, I'll give that bastar-" Before she got to finish her sentence, Cardin buried his face into her chest and gave her the tightest hug he could muster with his small frame.

There was no need to ask anything; she returned gesture but with more care and gentleness. "It's okay pumpkin; everything's alright. I'm here baby." _No, everything's not okay_ , Sean thought. As far as he could tell, his son's going through a change, and it's unfortunate that it wasn't puberty. This was much worse.

"Mom, mom, mom…" Like a mantra, Cardin cried in her arms. His tears were still flooding. But something about mentioning the retired huntsman got his dad's attention. But it didn't deter Merry from going along with his troubles. She would gladly stay like this for as long as she had the energy, and for her part that even meant an eternity. However, after several minutes of hugging, humming, and stifled cries, Cardin quieted down.

"Cardin," she soothingly rubbed his back, "I'm not going anywhere." She slowly pulled away from him, much to the ginger's reluctance. When she looked into his eyes, fear enveloped her mind.

They were deep like an endless abyss. No joy and lack of curiosity – her child was hurt, but she didn't have the slightest idea where this troubled look came from. His eyes weren't like that when he had the innocent blue iris that shined like her own. They weren't her boy's eyes; it's too much like Sean's when they were back in their back in their young Huntsmen years.

But she also noticed a vigor of energy overpowering that depressed darkness as something dawned on his mind. Cardin backed away from her but spoke before she could grab him back into another hug.

"Mom!" Cardin shouted at an octave bordering shouting, startling both of his guardians, his demeanor transforming suddenly before them. They couldn't complain about it; it was certainly better than what they witnessed before his breakdown. "I need you and the old man out of my room for a bit."

"Hmm?" She tilted her head.

…

 _Old man?_

 _Old man…_

 _OLD MAN?_

"What did you call me!?" It's like he wanted to throttle him or anything, but at the very least tossing him through the window would make them even. "I'm a young and sexy thirty you midget!" Cardin sighed before he grabbed the seething Sean by the wrist and pulled along with his mother through the door.

"Ah, sorry, I forgot," Cardin said and snapped his fingers, "What I meant to say was 'get out of here, drunk pervert.'"

Sean 'tsked' while Merry giggled at his light jabbing. Whatever brought on this character, it was a sign to say that he's growing up a little more than she thought.

"We'll leave to yourself, but you have to tell what you've been thinking about recently, okay?" She knelt down and reached with her pinky out.

"Promise me?"

Cardin's cheeks were tinted roses and facepalmed himself. She's never done this with him before, and she knew it was embarrassing to both of them, but he reluctantly grabbed back with his smaller digit before he muttered.

"I promise mom…" It was good enough for her for now.

Immediately after the agreement, Cardin closed and locked the door before they started to hear pitter patters and the sounds of the closet and drawers creaking. It seemed he was going to be busy. Merry grabbed the grumbling man to the small hall and into the kitchen and broke the silence.

"Sean," Merry whispered with her husband's attention directed to her, "Is Cardin going through something I don't know about?" There was never a time she lacked attentiveness of the seven-year-old. This wasn't the Cardin who would oversleep, play around the house, or even listen to his father respectfully. He's not even so timid anymore; the child was conscious about himself and his actions. "I mean, did he meet someone new? Is school mistreating him? What if he fell and hit his head? Is it us? What if we're the ones at fault? Oh Oum, what if he watched something we should've hidden? OH Oum, what if he found your liquor stash and tried it out!"

"Breathe woman!" Sean said. He placed his hands on her shoulders. Although it did calm her, it didn't stop her from muttering the possibilities. "He's just going through some kind of revelation." That got her to stop and considered his words.

"Revelation? We've been living here for over a decade; he only knows his home to the school. He's only ever gone out when you decided to unlock his Aura and train him, and that was months ago."

"It doesn't have to be something physical you know," Sean said.

"Please don't tell me he's going through 'changes.'" She deadpanned.

"Heh, I wish. The kid's only seven – he's got 'til at least five more years to feel the hell I went through." Sean snickered.

As much as she wanted to joke around, Cardin's condition was eating her inside out. But Sean may have a point, maybe he was suddenly contemplating about something, and then *BAM*, her little goofball was another kind of ball she'd have to describe later.

"We'll figure something out. Whatever he's going through, you'll always be by his side waiting for the excuse to save him and absorb his affections." Sean said with assurance.

Merry raised her brow. "Don't you mean 'we'?"

"Nope," Sean shook his head, "with the way he's heading, I'd rather knock him around, and you can heal his wounds after the workout. You know, like good cop bad cop."

"You're making it sound like he's some criminal," Merry sighed. Sean scoffed at the accusation.

"Of course not. I just think he's prepping up to face the cold, harsh reality, and we, as the responsible adults, should support him in his endeavors."

"Honey, you're not making any sense. He's only seven, the only cold and harsh reality he's gonna face in the next few years is when we'll have to explain to him about the Birds and the Bees." she scowled, pinching the bridge of her nose when she recognized the playful smirk on his face. "Monty, you're still drunk aren't you?"

Sean chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her lithe frame, pulling her in into his personal space. "Not at all, maybe a little sleepy, but if you tell me more about the Birds and the Bees Merry, I can start my motor up."

"Pft!" his wife pushes him away before he got her in into the flow. Well, at least someone was thinking the bigger picture. "I'm not in the mood. You better start thinking with your smarter noggin for a moment."

"I am thinking with my smarter noggin!" He pouted. "And he's making a rather compelling argument."

…

" **Oi** ," a young voice pitched in. Both of the adults turned and saw their child glaring back at the grown man.

"Keep your grubby hands to yourself!"

Cardin donned himself a military backpack that was gifted by Sean's father, a Kevlar vest wrapped light paddings, his basic outdoors shorts, and was carrying a metal baseball bat. He as usually fond of wearing his plain black shirts and baggy jeans; that was what he wore most of the time, and he never acknowledges the other types of clothing they gave him.

"Why are you dressed up like that Pumpkin?" Merry asked. Sean thought the same question. The boy grinned, his expression of disgust was replaced with excitement.

"I'm going to train as a huntsman seriously," Cardin proclaimed, "and when I get strong enough, I'll attend Beacon Academy!" His mother gasped followed by a feeling of dread.

"Beacon?" Sean felt worried.

Cardin nodded, "Yeah, the same one mom went to."

Somehow this made even less to them about his sudden antics this morning. The training they got. After all, in some way or another, a family of hunters bonded through fighting the forces of Grimm and resolve the strife of the everyday people. If anything, it was surprising for Cardin to have not invested in training sooner when they told him stories about the Winchester history ever since he was 4. But to go to Vale and study under Ozpin was an entirely different matter. Sean only knew the man through news and the occasional drunks who've met him. Merry's view was a new story. And much to his frustration and curiosity, she was never open for discussion when it came to the mysterious man or about the academy.

All he recalled from her after all these years were 'I'm never going back there; you hear me you bastard? So quit asking me about it or no sex for a week!' And he would naturally shut his trap.

He peered back to Merry's frightened eyes – she was stunned from Cardin's statement. But unlike when it's mentioned from anyone else, she looked frightened by the possibility of him leaving her nest and into a minefield. Unfortunately, Cardin was never the type to grasp the words he uttered or recognize the still face from Merry.

"And you!" he pointed his tiny finger at Sean.

"Me?" He asked for confirmation. The kid never really had that kind of resolution in his voice. After all of the years he's been raising him, he was always resistant to talking with Sean directly. It wasn't out of fear, but more like out of shyness or caution.

"Yeah, you!" Cardin's grin widened until it reached near the height of his ears. "Train me 'til you drop dead old man! You owe me."

"HUH!?" Sean exclaimed. Literally a while ago, the boy cried for just hiking up north to the mountains and bawled even harder when he whacked him upside the head in a spar. But that wasn't even the most surprising thing about the boy's transformation. Out of reflex, the head of the family yanked him off the ground and shook him rather violently. It was no big deal to Cardin though, he had worse.

"Who you calling old man you midget!?" He growled much to the boy's amusement.

"Ha! Who else? Weren't you listening?" Cardin laughed at his dad's attempt at scaring him, "don't tell me you've gone deaf too, old fart."

He's 30 years old, technically at his prime. Inside of him just snapped at the comment. "All right," he sighed, holding the snickering child to the front door before rightfully tossing him to the wind. More precisely, he threw him as hard he could in his natural stupor. To his credit, he heard a yelp from landing on concrete and sliding onto the dirt. "I'll play your little game boy, but don't be crying home to your mommy when I'm through with you."

Still smiling, Cardin got up and gifted Sean a delightful pair of birdies.

Something told him he didn't learn that from his friend at the Thrush household. But no matter, he was concocting a far more insidious way to piss him off anyways. After slamming the door shut, the stunned Merry out of her trance. She hurled towards him with renewed energy and thrust him against the wall with enough power to shake the entire room.

"Whoa, what happened to you not being in the mood?" Sean laughed and ignored the scowl.

"You told him?!" she snarled, emphasizing her point by rewinding and throwing him against the wall again. Oh, he felt something crack from that. Hopefully, it's the support beams creaking and not his spine.

"Why would I tell him? Besides, if you haven't noticed, we have a thing called the internet and news! And scrolls!" He threw his arms in exaggeration. "Of course, he would know about one of the most prestigious schools for Huntsmen and Huntresses. It's in his studies."

"That's not what I meant. I mean how did our son know I attended Beacon?" Merry tightened her grip, causing Sean to wince. Damn her monster strength. "I never mentioned it to him, not even once did I slip it out… You're the only one who knows and no one else inside the city's borders."

Sean sighed.

"Honey, he probably figured it out some his classmates or someone near the ship stations. Every day there's a new face after all in Howling Shores. So calm down-"

"I am calm," she interrupted him before letting go and backpedaling away. "I just need some time to think this over."

"Oookay, now that you're calm, I'll just be on my way and teach the brat for a few hours."

She gasped, and a snapped her fingers. "That's it!"

"Hmm?"

"Since he wants to go to that shithole so much. Heh heh," one uncomfortable silence later, an innocent smile hid the beast inside of her. "All you need to do is train him hard and long enough to convince him otherwise!" Sean looked at the deranged woman for a bit.

"And what's your definition of a hard and long enough training?"

She was always the strong bullheaded mother, and she would never subject her son to the practices of being a huntsman. She fidgeted a little and twiddled her thumbs in guilt.

"Oh, you know, add a couple of hundred kilos of weight bindings in his conditioning, spar until he can't lift anymore, and use difficult to know huntsman jargon. And have him disciplined like how you were in the Vacuo military… Make sure you break his determination but not his will to live. At least that's my definition…"

"Monty! That's pretty damn brutal dear!" He guffawed and closed in on her to peck on her lips. "But this is why I love you." She blushed and pouted at his display of affection, but she wasn't complaining or pulling away.

"Get out of here you drunk pervert!" She provoked him with Cardin's phrase, causing him to frown slightly. He was still feeling somewhat coarse though.

"Anything for my everything, sweety." Her blush turned a shade darker. She was always easy to tease.

"Then do what I say and get to it, mister Winchester." She smirked as she unlocked and opened the door for him to stroll through. "Be back by 6; you wouldn't want to be late for dinner."

"Yes, Missus Winchester, your wish is my command." Relieved that she's back to her original self, he walked out and gently closed the entrance, ready for his child's new tenacity.

And he meant it too. Whatever the child's going through must be grave enough for Sean to get involved. But he didn't mind about it. In fact, Sean was ecstatic inside, for this is proof that Cardin wished to continue the family legacy of hunting Grimm and instilling their prowess against the enemies of humanity. And if he's going to help the boy to reach his destination, then the only thing that'll get in his way would be his eternal flame. Not that he didn't want to, but life as the slayer of Grimm was a duty, and they could use all they can get their hands on. However, if he's implementing the routine, his wife wanted him to, then so be it. No longer will he hold his hands or guide him through every step. Besides, something told him that wouldn't be a problem anyways.

When we walked to Cardin, he sees the iron will through his pupils. They told him exactly what he thought: don't half-ass it old man – give me everything you got. _Heh, and already he's acting like a man._

"I pray for the best little fella; you're going to need it." Sean chuckled darkly.

But Cardin quietly laughed back at him, flipping him another birdie for good measure.

"That's what I should be saying to you old fart," Cardin's words held venom, his smile turned upward menacingly. "We got the whole summer, so don't you dare skip out on me. You wouldn't want to upset someone who a status above you."

"Hahaha! Ooh, such big words! Watch your mouth sometime in the future, 'Pumpkin' - you have no idea how that'll bite you back in the ass!" Truly, this was a significant change from the mumbling boy he was just a few days prior. Although that unnerved him, perhaps even frightened the mighty huntsman, it was relaxing to see ginger haired imp standing up against him with such apparent defiance. In his own right, Cardin was growing up and adjusting well for his age. And that assured him enough to continue playing ignorant of Cardin's new manners. He'll figure it out one way or another.

As if the tensions between them couldn't get any worse, both of them started to chuckle as they began walking through the streets and let the civilians feel the palpable pressures between a loving father and son. Cardin gripped his baseball until his knuckles turn white. Sean bared his fangs; his smile turned demonic. It'll be only 10 minutes to reach to the border's entrance and another 30 minutes to arrive at the training grounds outside of Howling Shores.

Oh yes, he'll figure it out, even if he had to get his hands dirty to get the job done.

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 **A/N: 'Sup y'all,**

 **And holy shit, writing this out was a bitch. This was supposed to be around a thousand words, but I always end up dissatisfied with my work and rewriting everything. I'm still not satisfied with it, but I rather not delve into this too much. Hell, I don't even know what genre I should categorize this story, it's too much of a mixed bag for me to decide.**

 **So this just popped in my head, and although the 'back to the past samurai jack' concept is pretty overused, I honestly couldn't really get it out of my head. It's as if my subconscious is nagging me to write it out at least and see what I'd do with it.**

 **And Cardin is like an empty slate for me to play with. There's Jaune for that as well, but I thought since there's a shit ton of him doing everything already, I'd settle with a grouchy Winchester and trial with what I can do with his personal foundation, such as him being racist (speciest probably?) and an overall prick. I intend to keep that part of him but at the very least extend the reason or develop some excuse.**

 **I also plan to change point of views every once in a while – most will be Cardin's view. So this should be a fun story to experiment, I think.**

 **I also make no promises of what's to come with this story or any other stories for that matter. I won't say how long it'll be 'til I drop the next chapter, nor will I integrate any reviewer's critique in my writing besides grammar issues. I find it unhealthy when someone makes promises only to break one and continue doing that out of embarrassment or lack of motivation. If that ever happens to me, I'd follow the last excuse.**


	2. Chapter 2

Two Sides of the Same Coin

Chapter 2 – Rebuilding Bridges

/

Past north of Howling Shores lies the impenetrable walls of mountains. Over several hundred meters tall on average, there was no ground-dwelling Grimm that can hope to pass without being spotted by stationary scouts and kept away from civilization. And only narrow pathways are accessible for single line units. Unfortunately, due to how far these walls stretch by the miles and the lack of resources to widen the natural tunnels, it's very unfavorable in trading with other regions across the rocky landscape unless through aerial carriers. However, they make an excellent sparring range, and one particular high mountain topples over its siblings by a thousand meters – people named it the Great Fall.

And what an accurate title it was, for if any were to fall from its very cliffs, even with incredible Aura reserves, they would turn into a puddle of their own blood. The only way to access it was through the cable carts, and with the power of dust, it only took several minutes to reach the top rapidly. It was a place of isolation and contemplation, but it was also recognized as the best spot for combat. In fact, there was a myriad of stories of combat stages within it.

And yet, despite its grand size and volume, even the citizens below shudder at the very faint sounds of profanities and explosions erupted from very peak of the Great Fall…

* * *

 **Location: Great Fall**

If there was one thing Cardin learned ever since his sudden transition back at his home and family it was that he shouldn't take things for granted. He learned that lesson at the most difficult stage of his life. Ever since he lost everything at a blink of an eye, his family and nearly his life, he lost his sense of self along the way.

He was aimless and livid at the majority of his life, maybe even to the point of unintentional suicide. But he had help along the way. Too much help in his opinion, but they carried his burden even with his immature reluctance.

He couldn't bear the thought - that also meant losing whatever left he gained after so long of self-hatred and hate of everyone else. It was just several years ever since Beacon fell, and conflicts grew within the four kingdoms. Grimm ventured for the uncontrollable emotions that followed.

Ozpin was stuck in a stupid kid's body, dragging every idiot along the way voluntarily in a suicide run. James isolated most of his resources into keeping Atlas intact, barely holding it up due to their military might… Vacuo fell, Mistral fell, Menagerie was dominated by retarded fur balls, and Vale was at an extremely fragile breaking point. And Salem was ever closer to attaining the relics, but she was denied over and over again by the combined efforts of Huntsmen and Huntresses.

It didn't matter though, for she was eternal, the Grimm numerous, and humans and Faunus could only fend off what little they had left in them. All she had to do was wait like the old bitch always did, letting her mindless minions do the dirty work. Cardin accepted that long ago, for he had his sights on a different matter: the White Fang.

And the terrorists only fueled the flames of strife throughout Remnant, much to Cardin's anger. He lost the people he knew as his friends from the enemies he vehemently made as his goal to eliminate no matter the consequences that came with it. He couldn't stop them because they followed along with his vendetta… fucking morons…

But he couldn't rid the bastards; he couldn't beat the rabid animals and the leader of them all that was Adam. The terrorist organization outmatched them by numbers and territory, but it was his emotions that got the best of him and hammered the nail in the coffin.

But that no longer mattered to him. It remained a lingering experience and perhaps gave him a little some foresight at his current predicament.

And whatever happened with his final encounter with the flame-haired faggot only felt like a nightmare, albeit an extremely vivid one. And he'll keep it that way by finishing up his objective from scratch. _And never again,_ he would repeat to himself. Never aga-

"Think fast!"

Cardin tensed up as he tried to dodge incoming bullets by rolling sideways. It didn't help much due to his additional weight wrapped around his limbs and torso; each braced weighed at least half of his weight. To make matters worse, his ankles were cuffed for good measure while his baseball bat was wrapped with a strengthened cloth and a heavy dumbbell at the tip. Any movement he exerts would impede his balance and stagger his center of gravity. This has been going on for a solid 20 minutes.

 _This is fucking ridiculous._ This 'training' was certainly a first for Cardin, for he never experienced doing something this advanced. For the most part, he was always just swinging until he aches all over – simple, but it got him far enough. But he had to admit, it was a good start at making him react faster and try to predict the bastard's next moves. Being immobilized and essentially crippled inspired him enough to try at least to survive the old man's schemes.

However, the lead and dust forced the tiles and concrete to scatter in a frenzy. A series of blasts and clouds of dust particles began to smoke the stage and stifled the air around him.

"Hey asshole, give the janitors a break! You're making a mess!" Cardin heaved his bulked body away from an incoming dust grenade soon after. Unfortunately, Sean predicted that would happen and was cooking it until the timing was right. Shutting his eyes at the nick of time, the grenade's detonation nearly pierced his eardrums.

Cardin glared fiercely at his dad as he knelt down and gasped for air– his smug face says it all. Unforgiving and relentless, Sean brandished a minigun and spare grenades at his disposal. He knew this would be the result when he wanted Sean to train him seriously, but he never thought that he would go this far. He was just a kid with a metal stick. Well, physically speaking he was, but he still a warrior with bountiful experience.

And he should've seen this brutal attitude from his pops coming a mile away. He didn't think his liquor-loving father would be so sensitive about his age. He'd hate to think what would happen if he applied the same treatment to his mom. He shuddered the implications of her anger directed at him.

But enough wondering about the improbable; he had an idiot to dispose of.

"Stand still!" Cardin shouted as he heaved his bat and reflected the incoming bullets. Although he was slow, he wasn't slow enough to not steadily leap and deflect into the fray. Sean, being the haughty fighter he was, jogged around Cardin in circles. He was more playful than dangerous, and that didn't sit well with the bat wielder, his jaw grinding out his molars.

"Too slow," Sean smirked and took out dual pistols from out of nowhere. "Come on brat; I didn't think your conviction would be so little. What happened to training seriously as a Huntsman?"

Cardin stuck his tongue out while batting away the speeding bullets back at him. His dad was always the type to get into his opponent's nerves while setting up traps for them. Although the Winchester family was a line of Huntsmen, ever since the Faunus War, the name was more associated with a soldier background than what it's intended to be. That meant he was expendable to the kingdom of Vacuo. It never fazed Sean so much considering his father fought for Faunus rather than against them. As if that's the only thing he could be proud of.

But he had Aura and immense knowledge on guerilla warfare, not to mention his annoying Semblance which practically favored him into fighting in general. Thanks to his capabilities of manipulating his Aura into essentially pocketing items and even living organisms within his very body, so long as they don't carry over his physical weight, he was given the title "War Jacket."

If he could remember the over the top stories he heard back when he was a legit kid, Sean bragged about how he's the first of his unit to take down a whole battalion of Mantle infantry troopers by impersonating as their soldier and implanting incendiary and chemical bomb plants throughout a fortress stationed near Mistral. And on and on with something similar to sabotage and causing a ruckus through explosives. If Cardin never knew any better, he'd believed his dad was just a bomb maniac and perhaps suicidal.

And from some private to a major Sargent, it was clear that Sean was cut above the rest through tact and discipline. Just not enough to get him a high pay grade.

It explained his career path and unorthodox fighting style, and much to Cardin's dismay, it was a style he wasn't entirely used to.

Cardin remembered when he was training with him before, he didn't luck out much and was, well, sort of a pansy when it came to fighting his dad back then. Too many times did he get knocked around from Sean's arsenal of weapons, and he was only able to survive due to his Aura. And he never thought about hitting back. Cardin sighed, remembering how he was spoiled and guarded by Merry so much to the point it almost stunted his mental growth.

Lost in his thoughts, the battlefield, although incredibly broad, was overlapping it by the density of the explosions and caught him in a land of misty dust and immense heat. Of course, playing dirty was one of Sean's strong suits. And here he thought the weights and padding were for training. But nooo, the son of a bitch just had to drag in a verbal fight.

He smirked at his father as he recalled a drunk asshole from his timeline which did the same thing as his pops in combat. The taunting and impish manner was a specific fighting trait. He frowned and shook his head – he buried the memories back where they belong. Now's not the time for reminiscing.

"If you're not gonna take me seriously," Cardin growled, releasing more of his energy to dash towards the smirking soldier, "I'll just have to up my game."

"That's the spirit," Sean guffawed as he dropped a smoke bomb and incendiaries in Cardin's wake. "Just try to land a hit boy."

His piece of shit father was always such a pain in the ass, but it made beating him into a pulp much more satisfying and justified. He had to train now more than ever, after all, it won't be long until his unforgiving memories haunt him.

Cardin, realizing how short he was compared to his father by a few feet, took the smoke and flames to his advantage as his dived low and through the havoc mist. Although it surprised the heavily armed Winchester, he kept his distance and tried to notice and rifts in the air. The ginger held his breath and moved perpendicular from Sean before cutting a tight angle towards him while engulfed in smoke and fire.

Just as Sean was about to jump back, Cardin closed in on him, predicting his movements before he could expect it. His face was at mid shock – he didn't expect him to move with such immediate burst of energy nor did he expect Cardin to even rotate towards without slowing down in the process. It just goes to show him that his concentration on his Aura was precise, his muscle control also on point. He raised his steel bat to his waist and closed in on the Huntsman and swung for a home run.

"Go to hell!"

"You first!" Sean barked back when he threw counter with his hidden pocket knife.

And throughout the whole ordeal, two guards near the entryway looked at the chaotic match with utter shock and detached amusement. They were confident everyone else below them could hear the commotion.

"My lien's on the 'geezer.'" The one on the left snickered.

The other rolled his eyes but nodded back to him.

"Fine by me, but triple or nothing if the runt lands more than two hits."

"Heh, deal."

* * *

 **Sometime later…**

 _Man, what a day,_ Sean thought when he wiped the sweat from his face. Noticing the brat was still up and ready to throw another hit, Sean intercepted and countered.

"Hey, take it easy," he blocked the weakened boy's bat his palm. Straight afterward, he grabbed his ankle and threw him down. He barely got Cardin to stop struggling who was sweating bullets and blowing hot air. However, no matter how much he got taken down a peg, Cardin always had the defiant leer. How troublesome of him.

He inhaled sharply as the bruise started to spread on his shoulder towards his neck. Out of ammo, dust, canisters, and Aura, the large man sighed as he began patching up what he could of his body with the security kit he had in him. First, get ice for muscle ache. Second, pour alcohol and stitch up wide open gashes. Third, bitch and moan.

"You hit a lot harder than I thought you could," Sean whispered when he looked back at his now extremely exhausted son. And that's putting it lightly.

Bruised all over with fresh scratches and barely breathing, Cardin was a serious mess. He would have to suture up and ice all over his son's body soon. He gasped for more oxygen, but from the obliteration of the training field, it was difficult to breathe in the stifling air.

"It seems you've improved while I was busy too, brat."

Cardin, laying on back, pouted but his response wasn't wholly negative. "If you weren't such a tough geezer and removed these damn weights off of me, I would've wiped that shitty smile off your face."

After what felt like decades of playing tag with his son, Sean was able to analyze the differences the current Cardin fairs compared to how was before. He considered the changes that followed and pondered in silence.

However, the peace was thick and agonizing for the both of them. Being the loud mouth he naturally was, Sean began his interrogation.

"Why do you fight as if you're bigger than me?" the soldier asked with a raised brow as Cardin momentarily widen his eyes in realization. It was odd enough how ballsy he was during the fight, perhaps even to the point he never noticed how patient Sean was with him during each round. But it was even weirder when the boy kept aiming high and overreaching his shots. But from what he gathered, it seemed like it was natural to the boy. "Wide swings and not lowering you stances made your flailings obvious, boy. Keep that up, and you're just begging for someone to curb stomp you."

"So what?!" Cardin fumed and glared at him, barely moving his neck to make eye contact. "I got you a couple of times!"

Rolling his eyes, Sean retorted. "Yeah, but that was only a couple in the last 2 hours you freakin' moron. Like a raging mini bull, you're a blind and tactless idiot while I just pranced around your sorry behind." Cardin was close to exploding, his face steaming with bloodshot eyes.

"Take off the damn weights, and it would've been over before you know it you deadbeat!"

Sean laughed his ass off hard as Cardin shouted 'I'm serious!' _Where the hell did he get these name-callings from?_ Surely, he couldn't have thought them up alone. _I'll have to investigate his friends later. Perhaps see how his teacher's doing._

"Oh, so now I'm a deadbeat huh? What happened to old man, brat?"

Cardin snorted. "Bah, you're still an old man, but you're also a deadbeat. Consider it a bonus."

"Oh, you wound me," Sean pretended to be offended and hurt. "I've used up a lot of my time and resources to have a father and son bonding with you, and this is the thanks I get for being so selfless. If anything, I'm an exceptional parent."

"Tch, idiot," Cardin mumbled but didn't have much energy to say much. "If you call beating your flesh and blood while laughing at their expense exceptional parenting, then I hate to imagine you trying to be an abusive father."

 _Ouch_

That stung him good in the chest, but all Sean could think of is the satisfied gleam from Merry and the reward he expected to receive from it all. All in the day's work of practicing as a Huntsman.

Then Sean eyed the so-called weapon Cardin was holding. Even after the grueling punishment he went through, it was almost as if the bat was infused with his fingers, reluctant to fall from the child's grasp. Well, at least that's better than letting it go. But that didn't change the fact he never used anything else besides the practice sword he gave him as a birthday gift. What made him decide it as better to use a sport's equipment of all things is beyond him.

"Why are you using that toy? I gave you a practice sword didn't I?" At least, he remembered something similar to it. It cost him a pretty cent to customize the weight and dimensions, and the bat was just something he thought would be a good gift to get his son outside more.

Cardin casually and barely lifted his arms holding the thing and proclaimed "It's a million times better than whatever you gave me…"

No, no it's not. There are a ton of applicable weapons for the child to use, and he needed both close combat tools and ranged ones if he hopes to survive the ordeal with Huntsmen programs. It's a club focused on bludgeoning and nothing more practical. He would have to undergo an intense muscle gaining regime and have a high capacity for stamina. If anything, the bat doesn't come close to realistic, but something donned on him.

"Oh, I get it now, trying to be more like your mom rather than myself I see."

The ginger hair child sneered at him. "Hah? In case you haven't noticed, she's stronger than you."

And Sean agreed with that statement. There's no doubt about it – he could still feel his spine tingle from this morning's incident.

"Stronger than me, yes, that's undeniable," Sean conceded, "But better than me is another thing."

"No way on Remnant are you a better huntsman than mom."

"I didn't say that."

Cardin raised his arms in exaggeration. "Then what the hell are you saying?"

"That she can obliterate and topple more Grimm than I could with her bare hands and is more methodical than me, and more tenacious than I ever could ever be in most things," Sean sighed.

"But she can never beat me when it comes to fighting humans and Faunus. I may be a Huntsman by career, but I'm a soldier at heart. For countless times during the Great and Faunus War, I had to march in the front lines and take countless more lives than anyone in my company." He grimaced briefly at the images resurfacing inside his head – his memories played with his vulnerable psyche. Damn, he could use go for a smoke now. There never was a right moment from his military experience, but there were hard-earned lessons he'd never dare forget.

"If there's anyone who has fought more human and Faunus bastards and came on top it's me. Not even your mother who took down her fair share of idiots will say otherwise." But even if he was superior in that sense, he could never fight her with his full potential. Not to say she wasn't capable in combat, but the thought of harming her never came to mind.

There was a pause, but Cardin closed his eyes with a calm expression in his face as if carefully delivering his words as cautiously as he could.

"I agree…"

Sean raised a brow in amusement. Very often Cardin would have been silent and nodded in most of his ideas and principles, especially in an argument. This Cardin was more similar to himself he supposed, but at least he's responding more openly than he ever did back then.

"Really, you agree with me? What's the occasion?"

"Yeah," the boy replied, "I agree you're the better fighter… but don't let that inflate your ego. I don't have any desire to copy your combat practices, old man." Cardin rolled on his side and lifted himself back up. "And I will never plan to."

"Oh, is that a fact?"

"No, more like a promise?" Cardin said with less conviction and more like a question. Perhaps doubt was clouding his judgment.

"Then what if you inherit my Semblance? You should have it manifested in your soul 'til next year."

Cardin's eyes twitched, and his lips turned downward. "Doesn't change jack."

The soldier threw his hands up and groaned. "Do you know how many huntsmen and huntresses would kill to have my ability? I'll tell ya: everyone! Imagine, when you grow up to be a 'big boy,' you'll have a lot of advantages in a fight. Believe you me. And what the hell did I do to deserve this attitude from you, brat?"

The child simply shook his head in denial but didn't exactly refute Sean's claim. Still, Cardin dismissed him and walked away from the stage. "It's not what you did do old man; it's what you're not going to do."

Mr. Winchester was frustrated at this point. What he's not going to do? Great, now his son's mysterious, and he ran out of patience to play it cool.

"Monty, why can't you spell it out if you're going to play riddles with me boy?"

"It's just better that way," he shrugged. "Besides, we'll be doing this more often, so you'll understand in time."

"You mean getting your ass beat over and over again?"

"Oh, just you wait, you'll get your turn someday." Cardin snickered, having Sean remove the weights and pack up his gear in his backpack before reaching to the exit. Although limping and still in pain, the boy never showed signs of regret. "Same time tomorrow?" His blue eyes showed doubt, but he seemed eager too.

The soldier simply nodded and waved him off. "So long as there's no trouble outside of these walls, sure. But going back so soon though?"

Cardin shook his head. "I'll be walking around. I think I need the fresh air and some time to think. You mind?"

"No problem," Sean nodded again, "I need the rest and clean up my mess. Make sure you get home by 6 – you know how agitated your mother gets when you out of her radar." He snapped his fingers and casually tossed a pocket-sized aid kit to Cardin. And as expected, the boy caught it with relative calmness. "Patch yourself some more when you get back. The last thing I need is the woman making me deaf when you asked for this drill session."

Even though he rolled his eyes, the boy thankfully seemed to understand the reality of Merry's nature.

"Yeah, yeah, no need for further begging." He chuckled. And as if the tension was never there, Cardin passed the two guards, and he was out of his sights. A child shouldn't be doing this without supervision, but something told him he'd be fine. _He knows his way back._ Sean assured himself. Unfortunately, this changed a lot of things he once knew about the child he thought he raised for the better.

From this morning to now, he collected his thoughts and drew any ideas as to how he'll approach his son again appropriately in the future. He's become an enigma and an open book at the same time. The answers seem something he would expect from his offspring, but the emotions he displayed was many times more expressive than he was before. More joyful, brash, and aggressive at the same time. And cautious.

No longer shying away from him, but not exactly embracing the warrior's presence, Sean had more questions to ask. Is he under someone's influence under his watch? Possible, but if that were the case, there would be other signs of ulterior motives. He also never encountered anyone outside of the house or school. Albeit, this is a commodity city; people come back and forth and around the globe for economic tradeoffs. But like the overbearing mother she was, Merry always kept him from going near the port and ship stations. And speaking of Merry, there shouldn't be any signs that revealed she ever attended Beacon, and Cardin somehow answered like it's the most obvious conclusion. Although he calmed her about the incident, it did circle back to the possibility of social influence.

 _Hmm, I'm not sure, but if his knowledge extends to the academy and perhaps even further than Mistral and Vale, then it could be derived from an unruly individual or group…. That or it could be Cardin going through puberty._

The possibilities are endless at this point.

His scroll rang, interrupting his thoughts. Checking the caller ID, Sean sighed in frustration before sliding the screen up. Out of all the people he had contacts with, this one, in particular, was a significant pain to deal with. But he relented and answered the call.

 _May as well get it out of the way._

"What do you want Lionheart?"

* * *

 _Well, that went to shit. Change of plans I guess._ Cardin sighed and winced soon after as he begins his stroll and journey back to Harrowing Shores through the cable carts. He sat down on a furnished seat, feeling the floor rock a little. The long ride back from the mountain meant he had more time to assess this predicament.

Thankfully, Sean seemed fine and even more 'chatty' than the ginger hair child expected and also let him go by himself. If he didn't know any better, Cardin suspects his supposed dad is not his dad at all. But now that he thought about it, being a kid again didn't exactly mirrored his current self. Far from it, in fact, he was perhaps too open with himself.

Then again, ever since he saw Merry, he acknowledged his emotional maturity could be more developed. Maybe that's what gave them a different attitude altogether, but reverting to the bumbling little shit he should have been, the idea soured into a distant solution.

Ever since this unexpected turn of events, the young Winchester was sure this renewed life he attained was a trick from the red-eye dike or at best a nightmare he didn't want to undergo again. But it couldn't be the former due to Emerald's lack of knowing what his childhood was, and the latter was mostly wishful thinking.

But he remembered dying, his eyes set on the smirking bastard that forced him to a halt, from going through his plans. Cardin unconsciously rubbed his neck, checking his pulse and finding any lingering scars from his past.

He needed another course of action, and what a grand day it was to have another chance at this again.

But that's the problem: this is way back then before he even had muscle or his high stature. He's seven for God's sake, in his case, a literal toddler body that has yet undergone severe training. Cardin was now a weak child and a freaking midget until he's blessed with hormones and a vigorous diet.

Before his revisit to his comrades and Vale altogether, he had to deal with this body of his and question this miracle on another day.

Although crushed to high heaven by the intense workout, Cardin at least felt secured about measuring his current physical condition. And unfortunately, he drew to a conclusion that he was too fragile. Pathetically so, he was far too thin to settle everything ahead of his schedule and too short to recreate his fighting style. And when the old man mentioned the bat, it's concerning to acknowledge that he may never retain the mace he took from his mother, the original owner of the Bash N' Mash.

But the bat will do for now until he could find a decent smith to replicate it. Albeit, being practically crippled by the new training regime or Sean's beatdown, even if he was not chained down, he understood his movements were subpar. And the limited range was practically making him an open target. His Aura also wasn't what it once was either, low in capacity and harder to control.

This body of his is way below the bar he set himself, but with his asshole of a father's assistance, he should have around half of his prowess by the end of next year. And if Cardin recalled from the calendar in his room when he was panicking, the temperamental huntsman was only a couple month's from turning eight, which meant he had at least four years of reaching back to his physical prime and into adolescence until hell rolls over – again – at what he once called his home.

The smell of burning flesh and ashes resurfaced his memories; familiar screams resonated in his soul, and his heart pounded his chest in a panic. The image of the White Fang flag took over his mind. Out of nowhere again, the trauma came back to haunt him at the worst time.

Cardin bit his bottom lip, accidentally drawing a small trail of blood on the corner of his mouth. He counted down from one hundred, relaxing briefly but enough to refocus his injuries. Inhale, then exhale slowly during the counting.

Cardin took opened the kit that showed gauzes, an ointment pack, and a sewing needle with a thread tied at the end. He started with the packet and tended the few open gashes on his arms.

"Get a grip you fucking idiot," Cardin hissed to himself. "I have four fucking years to fix this… four long years…" Now that he thought about it, with so much time left in his hands, he'd better start drafting his friends and comrades along the way. After all, if he ever hopes to prevent any disasters, his previous team should at least be on par with his current capabilities. Then maybe, just maybe, he could end this with his own hands in the future.

He sighed once the green liquid seeped through the wounds.

"Guess I'll start with Russell," Cardin mumbled, "that hairstyle reject should still be somewhat the same even if he's not exactly the one I used to remember. Heh, if my memory serves me correctly, I'm guessing he's lazing his ass off right now…"

* * *

 **One hour later**

One whole summer and the blazing sun only got brighter until the weather channel states otherwise. School's out, parents are out on their mission for about a month, and provisions are in abundance. And no supervision in sight – he's been an angel for a whole year to get his father's approval. It was worth every painfully false smile and overly bright compliments he heaved through his teeth.

Russell wanted to laze around in his room for the rest of the season. And he had everything prepared: a scroll, one comfortable bed, piles of new clothes, and snacks to last him a couple of weeks. This was a rare occasion, and there's no way he's going to let that go to waste.

However, due to a sudden ringing from the front door and a loud knocking on the hardwood, the boy groaned. Just when he was about to get this started, someone just had to ruin the fun. It didn't matter who it was, 'no strangers allowed' his dad would lecture him and give his ears a good tug every time Russell would do anything but that. It was probably a salesman or the mailman – he chose to ignore it.

Surely the person behind the door would leave in a few minutes. Instead, what he didn't expect was a sound of his front door clicking, signaling that a key unlocked it.

Out of panic, he rushed out towards the intruder only to be greeted by his classmate. Even though he was a few inches shorter than Russell and covered in bandages, he did recognize him for his vibrant orange mane.

 _Uh, Card? No, wait, Cardeen. Nonono, it was –_

"Cardin? What the heck are you doing here?!" Russel shouted and glared at the boy when the name clicked in his head. And not fazed at the slightest, the other kid yawned while flinging the extra house key at his forehead. "Ow! Fucking dammit! What's the matter with you!? You want to give me a scar or something?"

"For shame Russell, the under-the-welcome-mat key isn't exactly a place to have in case of emergencies you shit head. And here I thought you had some brain cells left in there." Cardin sighed in apparent disappointment.

 _Eh? Shit head?_

Cardin had a lot of nerve starting crap with him. The intrusion was already crossing the line, but calling him a shit head? The only one who's ever allowed to insult him was his pops. After all, he's the one who's paying the bills and food.

"Anyways, mind if I crash here for a bit? I remembered you had tons of rations at your place. I could go for some chips right about now."

"Don't talk like we're buddies, fuck off!" the screaming boy tried his utmost to stay calm at this point, obviously failing, and especially so when he tried to kick the jerk in the face. The weird kid easily dodged and pushed him back from where he jumped, making him out of balance.

He went for the legs to take him down and sent him tumbling, but he managed to brush off his leg sweep. Following jabs with the roundhouse kick didn't get him anywhere either; the boy was unfazed and blocked or dodged all of his hits.

He never took Cardin for a martial artist. He also never took him for being an absolute asshole. Smirking and shrugging off the attacks was a definite challenge, but Russell knew when he's beat, especially when it comes to fighting.

"Che, so annoying!" Russell gave up and went up another octave. "Why the hell are you here? I don't remember giving you an invitation, butt munch!"

"Have you gone deaf? I. Need. A. Place. To. Crash. I know you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you have ears, so at least try to use them. "

 _So bothersome!_

The green haired boy never knew much about Cardin, mainly because he was a silent type and lacked friends to socialize with. Always the outlier in of most of the lessons and activities, the young Winchester boy was mostly focused on assignments and going home. And lucky for him, no one messed with him, even if was effortless, but knowing that his mom would innately get involved deterred even the cruelest of classmates.

And in every sense of the word, Russel believed he was a boring loser and a momma's boy.

However, witnessing the socially awkward classmate of his marching in here like it was his own crap house and talking back at him with grit proved he had another personality he never intended to show to others. But why bug him of all people? Not that it should matter now. He had a month to exhaust, and he's not letting some run-of-the-mill weirdo ruin it.

"Get out of here! I don't want to play with buttholes like you."

"Hey, hey, hey, that's very rude," he chided and flicked Russell's forehead with blinding speed. And he meant it too, he never even saw the finger that lashed at him.

"Gah! I'll kick your ass, you nerd!" Oh, how he wished he could, but for some reason, Cardin seemed to read every move he made and easily predicted where he strikes. He's not even countering, just letting him vent and taunting him at the same time. That and the prospect of facing the emotional and physical consequences from his mother was too risky for him to suffer.

"Come on; you're better than this. Well, your combat isn't even close to competent, but you work with what you have. And wow, is this how you treat your friends? Talk about poor manners."

"You're not my friend! Get out!"

Cardin shrugged, yet he chose to resist leaving again. "Alright, How about I trade with you? You let me in and-"

"You're already inside, smart one."

"Bravo, you got me, but with your 'permission' to let me in, I'll do your homework for about a month when Fall comes by. Then we can properly introduce each other and have a civil discussion."

"Are you nuts?" Russell stuck his tongue out to aggravate the calm child. What did he take him for: a chump?

"Make it two months."

"Hah? One month or I'll harass you 'til you're losing each strand of hair you got on your scalp."

"Then what's the hell's the point of trading if you're not going to leave me alone?!"

"I figured you be reasonable – one month is a long time. For a dumbass like you, that's practically saving your career."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah because I need to be a geeky nerd to kick Grimm butt and save lives. I see you're already ahead of schedule."

The injured boy slowly clapped his hands, his face unchanged from utter disappointment. "Amazing, that's the best insult you thought of yet. Watch out, little man, you might pop a vein with such advance trash talking."

"Pffft, like you would know how to trash talk, 'little boy.'"

"I know plenty, after all, I'm talking to trash right now."

"Fuck you."

"I don't swing that way. I'm sorry to break your heart."

"I'm not the one invading someone's privacy to 'hang out.' What does that say about you, huh? You creepy fucking psycho."

"…"

"…"

"A month and one additional week, final offer."

"Fine, it's a deal."

"Then let's shake on it."

"No."

"Great, then as of now, you are my rightful servant, and anything coming out of your mouth will hold you liable for my amusement and punishment. Now, what's the appropriate response, servant?"

"You're probably the craziest person I've ever met in my entire life. And I know your mother."

"Heh heh heh! Lucky for you, that was the response I was looking for. Now let's shake on it."

"Holy crap, will you just stop?"

"Will you shake on it?"

"This is why you're the craziest person I've ever met in my life."

"Perfectly understandable."

"…"

"…"

"You know, now that I think about it, have you consider getting a Mohawk. I honestly think that would suit you."

"Well gee, now that you mentioned it, I think I'll take your advice and punt it off a cliff along with your ass with it."

At this point, Cardin was running out of air from giggling away at Russell's confused expression. His face scrunched up in irritation soon after when the shorter boy took a long drag. With a serene smile and a frighteningly calm mile long stare, Cardin freaked Russell the hell out when he spoke out during the silence.

"I'm glad to have you back you pal."

"Eh?"

Russel backed away slowly. _Why is it suddenly so awkward in here?_ But he recovered and responded.

"Uh, it's, uh, it's good to be back?"

"Yeah, yeah it is." Cardin sighed and laughed quietly a little, almost choking. What disturbed the host of the house even more so than before was when he believed he saw a tiny glint in his eyes. He backed off from Cardin with broad steps this time. Unfortunately for him, the ginger hair kid grabbed him by the wrist, and the grip was almost firm enough to tear his hand off. If he wasn't scared before, he certainly felt the emotion coming out in spades.

"You know what, I think we should have a little spar. You know, so that I can gauge your progress. This'll be the first step for our 'newfound' friendship."

Russell's face said it all, and Cardin's smirk showed he noticed the pained expression.

"No way! I don't have Aura yet; you'll win every time! I'll have it unlocked next year, and then I can take you down!"

"You don't need Aura to spar, idiot." Cardin sighed with a roll of his eyes. "It's about understanding your surroundings and technique – Aura not required. Clean and simple. Besides, you want to be a Huntsman right? Better to start ahead than regret what you didn't do later. And if you could handle it, then I can unlock your worthless Aura for you."

Before he could find a way to escape and throw a couple more belittling slurs, the iron-like grip was practically impossible to break from. Oh, he could scream his lungs out or possibly cut off his hand to get away from this weirdo, but he didn't want to look weak, nor did he want to sacrifice a body part. So with his will plummeting and strings cut, Russell buckled down and let the crazy asshole drag his body to god knows where.

He submitted.

He gave up.

Russell prayed to any god above to show him mercy.

He could've sworn he saw Cardin's grin widen.

And just like that, with the chitchat out of the way and a couple of flying fists and kicks in between, somehow throughout the entire ordeal with this 'new' Cardin, the weird and creepy kid who somehow manage to make his days feel long and torturous became the closest 'thing' he could call a friend.

Bummer.

Extra:

 **A/N: Ey Readers,**

 **This chapter was more bearable to write compared to the last one. I was planning on posting this last week, but I currently work full time and got lost in some bs along the way. But overall, this chapter was a decent start in my book. It could be better with dialogue and balancing out some exposition (I cannot for the life of me find a good pace for either one), but again, this is enough for me until I get more free time.**

 **And yeah, the banter between the two at the end was something I wanted to make more impactful, perhaps with more descriptions beside leaving quotes. But when I think about their non-existent chemistry as buddies, I think making it similar to the characters from Red vs. Blue would be more suitable than being all so serious. I think the dialogue alone will make you all understand where I'm going with their friendship. So we got Russell in on this – poor bastard. And hopefully, a couple more 'colorful' companions along the way in the next chapter. Until then, see you later.**


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